He recognized the expensive black car that was parked there with the back door open. He sighed out in relief because it was one of the lawyers at his firm. He probably came to the house to isolate himself.
Stew was thinking positive until he saw Calvin walk out of the front door with a box.
Calvin froze when he spotted Stew.
“Calvin?” Stew reached behind the waist of his pants. “What are you doing?”
“Back away, Stew,” Calvin said.
Another step closer and Stew stopped. He looked at Calvin, it was apparent that he was sick.
“I have to feed my family,” Calvin said. “You always were bragging about what you had.”
“No I didn’t.” Stew inched forward and shifted his eyes to the car. It was full of his stuff. “I cannot allow you to take that. If you need something. I’ll make you up a package. But I have family with needs, also.”
“Back up!” Calvin shouted, leaning in and shoving the box in the car. “Such a big shot. Food delivered.” Calvin coughed and stepped back, when he retreated from the car he held a gun and aimed it at Stew. “Stay back. I’ll get the rest. Four weeks is a long time and we need that food.”
“I don’t think you need the food, Calvin, you’re sick.”
Calvin shook his head, his hand trembled.
“Calvin.” Stew gripped his pistol and pulled it from the back of his pants. “Again, I cannot let you take our stuff.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Before Stew could expose the gun, before he could pull it forward, Calvin fired.
The bullet grazed Stew’s left arm, causing his to spin a little. He turned again to face Calvin, only this time he swung out his arm, aimed the gun and fired. The shot hit Calvin center of the chest. Calvin jerked back, and before he fell backwards he fired once more at Stew.
With that last ‘bang’ both men were on the ground.
26 – LETTING GO
August 5
Franklin, PA
If there was one important aspect about the virus that the news and government left out, it was how bad your body would actually feel and all the symptoms a person went through in their short span of suffering.
Other than fever, tremors and various typical flu symptoms, the warnings made it sound like a walk in the park or a bout with ordinary cold symptoms.
Luke learned from watching his mother that wasn’t the case. Although he did hear the virus could manifest differently in different people.
When he returned in the late afternoon to find her, she was fevered and shaking. She told him she didn’t feel well and was weak.
He helped her to the couch, got her blankets and water and encouraged her to rest.
It was truly only beginning for his mom.
The rash on her neck and chin encompassed the entire lower half of her face, changing from a hive looking rash to blisters and finally large bulb like things filled with a pus that just looked as if it wanted to fester.
It caused her neck to swell, and skin to tighten to the point she could barely do anything but arch her neck to breathe.
His mother was a strong woman, and Luke could not recall when she was so sick she needed someone to take care of her, yet alone, ask for help. However, his mom called his name over and over. A sound of agony escaped each time she struggled.
“Luke, help me.”
“I’m right here. I’m right here.”
Never once did Luke even think of walking away from her, he loved his mother more than anything. He would never walk away from her because she wouldn’t have walked away from him.
Luke was out of his league, his duties the day before helping out other people were nothing like taking care of his mother and seeing her suffer.
Surprisingly the cell phones were still working, and unlike the day before, Luke was able to place a call without being told all circuits were busy.
He called Doctor Christoph.
“I’m sorry to hear this, Luke,” Doctor Christoph said upon hearing about Melinda.
“I don’t know what to do. She is really suffering.”
“I know. I’m out making rounds. Did you want to meet me somewhere to get medication for her? Something to make her comfortable?” he asked.
“I’m afraid to leave her. I don’t want her to … you know, when I’m gone. I want to be here for her.”
“I understand and I wish I could give you some advice. Everyone is different. I just saw the Pearson Family, they’re like your mom. But the Hader girl, she slipped into some sort of coma and never opened her eyes.”
“The Hader girl?” Luke asked shocked.
“The oldest one, the grandfather along with Marge. All of them died from the flu.”
“Wait. Wait. I thought Mrs. Hader had a heart attack.”
“No, it was a complication of the flu.”
Immediately, Luke spun to his mother. “That’s how she got it.”
“Excuse me?”
“My mom. She gave Mrs. Hader CPR. We both did. How come I’m not sick?”
“I don’t know, Luke. You should be. If you aren’t sick by morning, I highly doubt you will get sick. You must be one of the one in a thousand that can’t catch it. But I have to go. I want to finish up the best I can before I leave here tomorrow morning.”
“You’re really leaving?” Luke asked,
“By tomorrow everyone that has been exposed should be sick and there is nothing I can do. If you’re well, there will be nothing for you to do either. You may want to think about leaving.”
Doctor Christoph couldn’t see, but Luke shook his head. “Franklin is my home. If I’m not sick, then I have to stay. Someone has to be around to help put things back together.”
“That’s very mature of you Luke, but you’re talking about sticking around to clean up bodies.”
A lump formed in Luke’s throat. “I have to.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, son. Just … you don’t owe a debt to society. What you do owe is to your mother to stay alive, stay healthy and live on.”
To Luke it sounded as if the doctor had already given up on his mother without even seeing her. But Luke wasn’t a doctor, and even he knew it didn’t look good for his mom. Yes, there were people who could beat it, but by the looks of his mother, she wasn’t one of them.
Eventually Luke left to go get something for his mom’s pain. He ran all the way to the pharmacy and all the way back home, begging in his mind that she would still be alive when he returned.
Between her cries of pain and deep, gurgling breathing naps, she spoke to him. She apologized for being sick, she told him she loved him and was proud of him.
Luke wiped her down, he helped keep her clean and dry giving her sips of broth, he hoped it would give her strength and perhaps help her pull through.
When the news came back on again in the evening, they watched it together.
He had no plans to go anywhere. That was why Luke worried when his phone rang and it was Molly. He thought for sure something was up, until she explained she was calling because she was worried.
She had seen him on her street so often, when he never came back, she was scared.
Luke told her his mom was sick.
“I’m sorry, Luke, I really am.”
“So am I.” Luke told her he would check on her when he got the chance, then hung up. He knew his mother’s time was close. He could tell by her breathing, her increased struggling.
She passed away in Luke’s arms, about an hour after his phone call from Molly.
After taking some time to cry and feel bad, Luke mustered up the strength to make her a grave.
He spent the remainder of the night digging, just before dawn he laid his mother to rest.
He wished he could do more. She deserved so much more.
Luke was beyond devastated and sad. He took a hot shower, placed on clean clothes, kicked back in the reclining chair and closed his eyes.
He would get some sleep, or
try. Luke closed his eye convinced that when he woke up he would be like his mother and most of the people in Franklin … infected with the flu.
◆◆◆
“Daddy. Daddy, I’m hungry. Daddy.” Emma didn’t just call out the words, she cried them, as the minutes, maybe even hours passed, she cried even harder.
There was nothing Matt could do.
He was trying to peg a place in his body that didn’t hurt. His chest was heavy and he struggled to cough. His throat was inflamed and it felt as if he had swallowed a knife. Matt’s head hurt so bad he wanted to rip his eyes from their sockets, the thick rash on his neck made it almost impossible to turn his head. He was so sick there was no way he could even respond to Emma
A part of him felt as if it was karma for the way he behaved at the hospital. Watching only as his daughter lay comatose with the virus, he did nothing while his father suffered right next to her. How many times had he asked his father if he was okay, how many times had he totally ignored his cries of pain?
Everything that was happening to him had happened to his father.
Matt felt bad for not giving his father the compassion he had deserved.
Now Matt suffered as his father had.
He had no energy and passed out frequently, only to be awoken by his daughter’s cries.
It took all of his strength to make it to the couch that set in front of the living room window.
He kept looking out the window. Waiting.
Two days earlier when he first came back home, Matt saw Luke on the street three times, checking houses, but he hadn’t seen him since.
Ironically, the person Matt never wanted to lay eyes on again, was the person Matt prayed to see … Luke Bridges.
But maybe Luke, like Matt was sick.
If he had the strength, Matt would cry. He wanted so badly to help his daughter. He could see her on the other side of the plastic, laying in the hall. Matt couldn’t go near her. He couldn’t take the chance of infecting his daughter.
Now Matt was torn between finding a way to get to Emma and feed her without passing on the virus. If he didn’t, Emma could succumb to something other than sickness … starvation.
It was all Matt’s fault. He had insisted Emma stay with him when he sent her grandfather away, he was so confident he wouldn’t get sick.
Now he was trapped in a failing body too ill to do anything.
He didn’t even have his phone, he couldn’t call Stew or Nash for help.
He didn't even know if they were even alive.
Two days earlier there was movement on the street … now nothing.
A knot formed in his stomach as he thought about Emma and what would happen to her when he died.
It was time to do something, anything, he had to save his daughter. Matt tried to move from the couch, but the room spun around him.
“Please,” he thought, “Just give me enough strength.”
Just as he lifted some from the couch, he saw him.
Luke.
The young man carried a paint can and walked down the street. He looked fine and healthy.
‘Oh, God, Luke,” Matt thought and reached for the window. It was open slightly and Matt pressed his face against the screen.
“Luke,” he called out. But barely a noise emerged. “Luke.”
Luke didn’t hear him.
Then Matt called for his daughter. “Emma. Emma.”
Emma cried.
“Emma. Open the front door sweetie. Open the front door. Someone is out there. Open … open the door.”
Matt collapsed back on to the couch, his hand reaching for the window.
He sobbed in defeat. Emma wasn’t doing as he asked. She just kept crying.
Leaning against the back of the couch, head resting on his forearm, Matt saw as Luke stopped in the street, turned and looked at his house.
He weakly reached up and banged on the window.
It wasn’t his attempt to make noise that gained Luke’s attention, it was Emma’s crying. Matt realized that when Luke ran straight to the house and up the walk. He stopped only when he was close, looking surprised when he saw Matt at the window.
Luke looked scared as he apprehensively approached.
“I’m … I’m sorry. I just heard the cry,” Luke said, staying back some and shouting his words. “I’ll leave.”
Matt shook his head trying to speak, but the rattling young man kept going.
“I didn’t mean any harm. I was just checking ...”
“Stop,” Matt croaked out. “Please. I need your help.”
“What?” Luke reached for the window, opening it more.
“Stay back, I’m sick,” Matt tried to inch away.
“I won’t get it.” Luke said. “I won’t. I haven’t. Doc Christoph says he thinks I’m one of those people who won’t get sick.”
Matt nodded. “I need your help. “
“Oh my God, anything.”
“Help my daughter. Help Emma. She’s not ... she’s not sick and I’m sealed off from her. She hasn’t eaten or drank since yesterday and …”
Before he could finish the sentence, Luke had raced away and into the house.
Matt sighed out, falling back again onto the couch. He saw Luke in the hallway and Matt, using every bit of strength he had left, stood from the couch and walked over. He stumbled twice, and both times Emma cried out.
But he made it to the plastic.
“Everything is sealed off,” Luke said. “The kitchen is sealed. Upstairs isn’t. I’ll go get her some water from the bathroom, then go and get her food.”
Matt shook his head. “I need you to take her someplace. On the … on the table there in the hall is an address. It’s a house. Away from people. Stew is there. Take her to Stew. Please.”
Luke turned to the table and lifted the paper. “It’s in Dubois?”
“She has to go. I … I won’t make it another day. Maybe not even today. She … I have to know she’s alright and safe.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’ll take her? My keys are still in my truck. Take my truck.”
“Mr. Hader ... I … I don’t drive,” Luke said. “I don’t. I threw away my license after …” his head hung low. “After. I stopped driving. I don’t know that I can. Let alone take Emma. It’s your child. I don’t know.”
“Yes, you can. Yes … you can do this. Please. Please.” Matt weakened. “Please.”
After a brief pause, Luke nodded. “Okay. I will. I’ll get her there. I’ll make sure she is safe.”
Emotionally, Matt sobbed out. “Thank you.”
Luke reached for Emma who was sitting on the floor. “Come on, we’re gonna go see your grandfather.”
“No!” Emma screamed as Luke lifted her. “Daddy!” she reached out for the plastic.
“Baby, go with Luke. He’s gonna take you to Pap.”
“Daddy.” She cried and her hand pressed against the plastic.
Matt raised his arm and placed his hand against hers. “I love you, baby. Daddy loves you so much.” He briefly closed his eyes and gave a nod to Luke that all but conveyed to go now.
Luke gripped Emma tighter. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hader. I’m sorry this is happening to you.” With a turn of his body, he walked to the door.
Emma arched her back still trying to reach for Matt, screaming and crying his name even as they left the house.
When the door closed, the sound of his crying child still carrying to him, Matt collapsed on the floor.
◆◆◆
Emma screamed in his arms and was hysterical. But there was a weakness about her, more than likely, from hunger. For as much as she fought, she lacked strength.
Luke didn’t know much about kids. Very little. Maybe if he fed her and gave her a juice box she would calm down. Even if she cried all the way to Dubois at least there was hope the grandfather would be able to soothe her.
There was a car seat in the rear back seat, and Luke struggled to get the gir
l into it. She fought him over it, and combined with his lack of knowledge on how to buckle them it was chore. He got her strapped in, at least he hoped he did it right.
He had placed the paint bucket on the porch when he raced into the house, and after putting Emma in the truck he went back for it.
He hadn’t a clue if anyone but himself would ever see those markings, but in case someone did, Luke grabbed the paint brush.
He placed a circle next to the door and in it an X. Within the top part of the X he placed the date, on the wide right hand side he put a B for biohazard, and just like Nash told him, on the bottom he placed the numbers.
They were to signify survivors, infected and dead. Luke wrote ‘1-1’, one survivor, one body.
Though Matt was still alive and breathing, he knew he didn’t have long.
After doing the markings he carried the can of paint to the truck and got inside.
The phones were now down, power had ceased sometime during the night and GPS was out.
He opened up the glove compartment in hopes of finding a map. Most people Matt’s age who were alive before the internet became a relied upon tool had them. Sure enough Matt did.
It was a local map, and he turned it over to see the full state. He had an idea where Dubois was and located it on the map.
Now it was time to go there.
“It’s okay,” he told Emma. “We’re going to see your pap.”
The keys were still in the ignition and while it was emotionally hard to start the truck, it was even harder to put it in gear.
He hadn’t driven since the day he took Hailey’s life, and the only thing that gave him strength enough to drive now was the fact he was now in charge of saving Hailey’s daughter.
He backed out of the driveway and onto the street, his insides trembling with every inch he moved.
Luke thought about how empty the town looked. When he passed the church he saw there were tents set up outside. The community quarantine. Yet, he saw no movement. He knew the pastor wasn’t sick, at least not yet, but others in the camp were.
After Luke woke up from his couple hours sleep and realized he wasn’t ill, he left to seek out Doctor Christoph. The Doctor and his wife were leaving town.
Plague Book: One Final Gasp Page 16